The Riddle House
by ruiojousama
Summary: ---this one's already dropped...gomen nasai... no time to continue making this...


**The Riddle House**

**Chapter I – A Blind Start**

öööö-

Interlude

_Journal Entry #24_

_ 2__nd__ ou Fevrier, year xxxx_

_ The incident involving a dead, fourteen year-old boy in the outskirts of the Kantou District last week sent the media for a field day. The police were extremely baffled, quite sapped_

_ of answers. It had been quite a tensed week, devoid of any good progress. The description _

_ was as follows:_

_ The boy was found by an old garbage collector at approximately 1900H in some_

_ secluded area not far from an amusement park in the District of Kantou. He was dead for _

_ already 30 minutes when the old man found him. 5 foot 2 inches, brown-haired and fair-skin-_

_ -ned. Wore a gray sweatshirt, ripped at the ribs, jeans torn at the kneecaps. He was barefoot-_

_ -ed and was lying at quite a strange angle as though he was thrown from a high place. Wallet,_

_ money and identification secured. Conclusion was that no intention of stealing or holdup._

_ The face was horribly scratched, almost making the victim unrecognizable. The right _

_ eyeball was missing and there was a deep puncture on the left temple. A portion of the head _

_ was scalped, leaving a bright red space. There was a deep slash on the right shoulder blade_

_ and the right arm was broken. There were innummerable gorge marks on his chest and legs. _

_ And the most intriguing part was he was drained of all his blood and all body fluids, leaving_

_ the autopsy experts a hard time in finding the real cause of death._

CRIMSON-U

Victime est etudiant a L'ecole Hyotei.

Pron quelque au le Maison du Enigme

-öööö-

Atobe Keigo was sweating. He just had a very unusual dream. He turned his head to look at the tall grandfather clock on the right side of his room. It was three-ten in the morning. Atobe let out a tired sigh. The incident at Hyotei two weeks before had greatly troubled him. It was all over the papers and the media had a field day. He was working overnight for a week and experienced running to and fro around the city, entertaining interviews and media press conferences. The school headmaster was alongside him, and he felt pity for the old man. Already reaching his retirement, he couldn't stomach the thought of his old figure facing these kind of problems. Atobe shifted in his seat. _Ore-sama swears to find the culprit and have this case closed, _he thought miserably. His head throbbed. His soul screamed. It was a first in his lifetime to encounter such a murder scene. The victim was a _kouhai _of his in the tennis club. Poor boy. His future has been wrapped up. The parents were in deepest mourning. His family was of a noble descent and they deserve respect and sympathy. The Atobe family reached out its condolences but in Keigo's conscience, this had been marked on his and on the school's history. He could not rest peacefully at night when he knew that this has not yet ended.

Atobe swept off the king-sized bed and made his way into the bathroom. The white-tiles, the gold embossed handles, and the warm water did not lessen his nerves. His let his face drip, looking at the tired reflection on the mirror. It did not suit 'ore-sama' at all. He needed to get his spirits up. Shaking away those tiresome thoughts, he grabbed a towel and dried his face. Atobe went out of the bedroom and climbed down the carpeted staircase. _Time for an exercise, _he thought to himself.

-öööö-

Five hours ago, two friends were walking down a stone pathway after a whole day's rush in the park's rides. They both stopped near a cotton candy stand and grabbed something to eat.

'Where shall we go next?' said the first to his friend.

The other gulped down his candy and replied with a relish, 'Why don't we try out that horror house?'

The first glanced at the prop house on the top of a small hill. He then said, 'That's not a horror house. It's not even part of the park. It's just an abandoned house by some weird count sometime in the 70's. Don't want to waste time there.'

'Oh yeah?' smirked the second. 'You know much about it, huh. Bet ya'r scared'

The first scowled at him behind his blue candy, 'Hey, I am not joking. A kid died someplace near that mansion. Some say it's cursed or something.'

'Believe all ya want. Tbe police said of murder. Not some supernatural piece of chicken,' snorted the second. 'And the kid was found _kilometres _away from the house. Apart from that, the house is in renovation for some stupid project. Come on, let's just take a look—don't tell me ya'll gonna chicken out of this? You did not even flinch back at the mummy tombs back there. 'Tis the real one.'

The first sighed and threw away the rest of the candy. He accompanied his friend towards the grassy pathwalk that rose up to the house, leaving prints that occasionally got swallowed up by the darkness; and not a thought struck them of what danger lay ahead.

-öööö-

Persephone, a pseudonym many had called her to protect her secrecy, went out of her bedroom and went up the winding staircase. She had climbed up three landings and walked down the carpeted corridor, inspecting the rooms that lay beyond. At the far end, she noticed lights streaming out the gaps of an oaken door. She smiled and walked up to it, knocking on the wood as she did so.

'Rui, are you still awake?'

A voice answered from inside, 'The door's open.'

Persephone went in. She saw the occupant sitting in front of a sleek black laptop, typing. The typer did not look up and was deeply immersed in the work.

'You're gonna get sick with this irrational hobby of yours.'

'Why aren't you sleeping yet?'

'Can't a mother go up and check what her daughter is doing at this late hour?'

The younger one rolled her eyes, 'Don't you want me to get out of there alive?'

'Oh come on,' her mother smirked. 'I was just giving you a nudge. But you need some rest—you got a big day tomorrow.'

'The daughter closed her laptop and then stretched, 'I don't need to be early anyway.'

'I know you don't. But you'll be getting a lot of _sleep _there—so do not like it much,' her mother stood up. The daughter scoffed and then hid under the covers, 'Turn off the ligths will you? I can't sleep with all that is bright.'

'I know. _Bonne nuit._' And with a small click, darkness engulfed them. Deep inside, Persephone knew that this time, she would succeed. _Nemo me impune lacessit._

-öööö-

Atobe came back half-past four, sweating again. The racquet was resting on his right shoulder as he was climbing the staircase. As he entered his room, one of his cellular phones rang. _Who would be calling ore-sama at this hour? _Nevertheless, he went to it, flipped it open and leaned it to his ear, thus saying, 'Ore-sama desu.'

A frantic voice answered at the other end, almost discernible by the continuous noise in the background. Atobe frowned.

'_Dare?' _He sat down on his plush divan.

_ 'Sumimasen deshita, Atobe-dono, _for calling you in such an unusual hour--' Atobe recognized the inspector's voice imeadiately (due to the past incident, he frequently talked to him).

'Spare me the apologies and get me to the point. Did something happen?'

The inspector drew a couple of nervous breaths before saying, 'Another murder happened.'

Atobe bolted up from his seat. '_Nani?!'_

'Two found dead this morning. Confirmed Hyotei students. I've already contacted the headmaster--'

'Has the media found out yet?'

'Fortunately, no. The place is secluded and we've got lookouts--'

Atobe rummaged through his gargantuan closet, throwing out a couple of shirts and pants, 'State ore-sama your place and ore-sama will go there. Now.'

The inspector wasted no time, and Atobe memorized the coordinates. Once done, Atobe donned his cloak and then dashed out of his room and into the landing. _Ore-sama hopes he can get there before the media does. _He did not bother to wake his chaffuer but instead went straight to the garage. Almost two dozen cars sat waiting there for him. Atobe opened the door of a silver Porsche and drove off into the night.

-öööö-

Reaching the said destination, Atobe had a small conversation with the inspector. He had reached the murder scene in a matter of ten minutes (having driven a staggering speed of 120 kph which almost shocked him). The media, in Atobe's utter disappointment, were already milling around the place, but not able to reach the exact scene. Atobe sighed in relief. The press saw him coming and they started to ask him lots of questions—none of which he was able to correspond, add to that the continuous snapping and clicking of cameras with their blinding flashes.

'Atobe-san—What is happening back there?'

'Do you have any idea who might have done this second murd--'

'A double murder, Atobe-san!--How did--'

'Why is it in the same place?'

Atobe waved them all away, giving a slight wry smile. He knows that the press sure makes his image on the top pedestal but this time, the temptation for popularity and glamour would be put aside for the moment. This type of news would not uphold his status of being the Hyotei King and an _Atobe _but a character to pressure. Atobe swept away from the sea of reporters and reached the inspector without much of a threat of a recorder running up his nose.

The inspector gave him a minute-report about the bodies found. The victims were definitely students, no doubt. They had their i.d.s with them in their wallets.

'...the unusual thing is, we cannot discern what motive the suspect has. The only conclusion we can derive is that this is no ordinary criminal. A serial killer who's targeting rich Hyotei kids--'

'No,' Atobe interrupted. 'We still cannot land on a conclusion like that. He must be a killer, yes, but not wholly targeting _Hyotei _students. The other victim is not a high school student of Hyotei but a collegian.'

'You can say that, yes but--'

'We still have a lot to investigate. Ore-sama needs to talk to the headmaster about this,' Atobe snapped. 'Has the relatives of the victims been contacted?'

Atobe spent another ten minutes conversing with the deeply troubled headmaster, who in his opinion, was already close to tears. he felt another sickening pity for his school's headmaster.

'I couldn't let the school face another case such as this. It's lowering the school's safety standard and honour,' said the old headmaster sadly.

Atobe bowed low, 'Ore-sama swears on his name that these horrid cases will be closed. Ore-sama shall do everything in my power to give justice to the unfortunate loss--' There was a sudden vibration from the inside pocket of his coat. He excused himself and took out a mobile phone. _Odd. _This was his secure-for-parents-only phone. Even his colleagues did not even know the number. And what's odder still, the number that was calling him was untraceable and quite unkown to him. He slid it up and held it to his ear, giving a rather suspicious _moshi moshi. _

'_Bonsoir, Monsieur._ Atobe Keigo-san I presume?'

Atobe was taken aback by the speaker's language. He decided to play long. '_Comment-allez vous? _Who is this? How did you know my private cellphone number?'

'My sources are insignificant,' Atobe can't place the tone. It was androgynous. 'All you need to know is you're under the survelliance of the CRIMSON-U.'

'_The _what?'

'I've said what you needed to know. For now, it's better for you to know little.'

'But why not now? Why wait until many are dead?'

'Go back to your home. We'll _talk.' _Atobe stood for a long time on that spot. He jerked back to his senses when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw his school headmaster.

'You can go back home now, Atobe-san. Thank you for your help,' he smiled. Atobe returned his gratitude and made a quick run to his car. Apart from wanting to escape the paparazzi, he wanted to meet that mysterious caller.

-öööö-

Once he reached his home, it was almost daybreak. There was already a pinkish glow peeking throughout the horizon. The large manor appeared empty, but Atobe felt the first signs of movement among his servants. He walked past the deserted staircase and into his room. He saw no sign of other visitor.

The moment he closed the door to his room, Atobe smelt an unusual fragrance of rose oil and musk. A shiver went down his spine. _Ore-sama is not using musk!_

A loud click jerked him back.

'Don't you ever _lock _your door?'

Atobe spun around. The room was still dark but not long after, his eyes became accustomed to the darkness and he could make out the unmistakable silhouette of a person near his window. The voice was muffled as if it was covered with a mask or a piece of cloth. Atobe strained to determine whether the speaker was a male or a female. It seemed so androgynous.

'Who are you?' Atobe inched closer.

The person pointed something at him and with the terrifying sound of the safety being clicked off, Atobe stopped in his tracks, 'Don't.'

'What, are you trying to kill ore-sama? Ore-sama's not gonna do--'

'Just safety precautions, Atobe Keigo-san. I am not sure whether you're a puppet or the victim.'

'Are you implying that ore-sama is a killer--?!'

The speaker chortled quietly in the corner. 'Relax—I am not saying any names yet. Are you that defensive?' Atobe opened his mouth to speak but the mysterious person cut him off, 'We don't have much time—I want you to listen—and listen only! Somebody is targeting you and your team. Including those of other schools. There were other cases such as yours in other regions. and most of them were high school players. And most of them were found dead. My intelligence reported to me that the culprit is somebody you _know_ very _well._'

'Ore-sama has no idea what--'

'I'm not done yet. As of now, there are already 7 listed murders and 4 missing cases. This month, we assume that the killer's going to move in for the mass killing. We are not yet sure of the motive but we're sure it has something to do with a top-secret military experiment.' Atobe heard shifting movements in the speaker's direction, as if he was ready to get out. 'We have no choice but to go undercover—with the to-be victims—so be ready.'

'What do you mean?' Atobe saw light filtering now through his closed curtains and he could see the speaker now, but the face was covered with a mask. 'You will receive the culprit's bait in a couple of days' time. And you will be accompanied by certain others you definitely know. I will be ahead of you. You will find me when you arrive there.' And he opened the windows and jumped through. Atobe ran to the sill and looked down. _It's the fourth floor! _He clutched his head as he looked down. He was just approaching the bed when he heard the first sequence of rings from his numerous phones. _What a Satureday, _he thought miserably. He began ticking off names in his mind. _This one's Oshitari. The other two were my parents. The last one should be Coah Sakaki. _He heard a soft tap on his door. _And that's my butler bearing the living room phone. _Paparazzi.

-öööö-

Atobe's unknown visitor sighed with complete relief. _Phase one turned out to be easy. Nothing beats a heart filled with despair. Now, it's my turn. That murderer will surely not know what hit him. _The sleek black SmartCar tore across the now closed amusement park and paparazzi. _They really are fooled. It seems _it _has the best camouflage._

-öööö-

An old man sat alone in a large laboratory. The place was splashed with an eerie blue light. Beeps and small clicks were continuously heard all throughout. Life-sized capsules stood on one side, their sides connected with fat silver cables and control devices. A large computer screen stood silently in front of the human capsules, its buttons faded and used. There suddenly came a hissing sound from the steel door as it opened to reveal a fat man in his thirties wearing a bloodied lab coat.

'Do they have an idea about this place?' asked the old man.

The fat man smoothed his hair and replied, 'No. Not in the slightest.'

'That's good. Do you have any other thing for me?'

'She's already here. The young lamb for sacrifice.'

The old man stood up from his seat, a smile tinted with malice.

'Get her in. And be ready to open the house once more.'

The fat man grinned. _At last, the plan will now be put into action. _He bowed and left the room. Once the large steel door hissed closed again, he felt the bloodied hems of his coat. _When this is over, I will taste the pleasure once again. _He crossed the carpeted hallway lit with tiny stubs of candles, the lone butcher knife hanging by his waist glinting in the tiny light.

A young girl with a black hoodwink over her eyes was sitting on the antique sofa in the living room, her long dark hair covering her pale face. The fat man beckoned her to follow him. The blindfolded young girl did not reply but followed him silently back to the laboratory, which was now empty. he injected something to her left arm and then, without warning, she shivered violently, clutching her head. After a few moments of convulsing in silent pain, she fell asleep. The man carried her to one of the large human capsules and put her inside the centermost one. He attached nerve optic cables on her two temples arms, neck and chest. After doing so, he injected a long confinement-like tube on the vein protruding from her left arm. Once done, he slipped an oxygen mask on her nose and mouth, closed the lid of the transparent capsule and typed a few keys on a control device on the foot of the capsule.

The fat man took out a laser-cut key from his pocket and inserted in into a triangular hole in the controls. The device accepted the key and a dialog box appeared on the small screen of the controls.

Proceed to Visual Reality Mental Control?

No Yes

He pressed _Y._ The capsule glowed and suddenly began to fill with some water-like liquid. Once full, and the body finally suspended in the capsule, he spoke, 'Can you hear me?'

One of the intercom speakers inside the room blinked on and a young girl's voice issued from it, thus replying, 'Perfectly clear, _danna-sama_.'


End file.
